Clouded Minds
by Fball
Summary: Nazz has lost it and is on a killing spree and is joined up with the Kankers. Jason and the survivors must take her down. Sorry for the wait. Chapter Ten is up. One more chapter!
1. Killing Spree, part 1

Jason POV

I broke the glass on my dad's old and dusty gun cabinet. The Eds and Kevin, Rolf, Johnny, and Jimmy were behind me, wielding metal baseball bats. I took out a dusty .22 and checked the tube magazine. It was filled to the top with brass bullets. That meant fourteen shots. I looked at the group and considered. Kevin could handle a 30-30, Ed could manage 12 gauge. Rolf could handle the 9mm MP9 (legal) that was in there. I gave the rifle to Eddy. The .22 pistol was given to Jimmy. I decided that Edd would have a 9 mm and Kevin would have a .45.

"Grab all the ammo you can and fill you're bags," I said. "The box says what caliber it is."

I sat back and looked at the .45 in my hand. It was light and shiny black. I had used it when I was first learning to shoot handgun. The grip was familiar and calming.

Jimmy came over to me.

"Mr. Jason," he asked. "What happened to Sarah?"

I looked down and felt tears form in my eyes. The kid didn't know. He just didn't know that you can die. Out of all the kids in here, this kid should know the best that things and people die. He was injured so often, but no one ever had told him to be more careful or he'll die?

"Sarah died, Jimmy," I murmured. "She's…she's not alive. The bullets went through head and chest. Basically killing her instantly. If she's not dead, she'll want to be."

Jimmy had a look on his face that made me want to hit him until he cried that he understood.

"People and things are born, but they can't live forever," I said. "They die. When they die, they go to heaven."

"So Sarah's in heaven?"

I smiled. I didn't want to bring up Hell, this kid was so happy.

"Yeah, kid, she's in heaven."

The others surrounded us, expecting orders.

"What do I look like, a leader?"

I didn't need the answer. I stood and cocked the .45, putting it in the waistband of my jeans.

"Nazz has…lost it," I began. "She sees the Kankers as sisters, and has willed them into a killing spree. If we want to live, we have to take refuge somewhere. The best place would be an attic with two windows that view the turn-around and the ally."

Kevin raised his hand.

"I, like, have an attic like that."

"Good. Next thing I have to say is important; if you have a problem killing someone, lock yourself in the basement here. I want people that are willing to defend themselves and others, not dead weight."

No one raised there hands or even looked like they chickened out.

I remembered the scene which kept these ragbag soldiers here:

_Sarah and Jimmy were playing with dollies. I could see that both were in bliss. Edd had the novel idea of spending some money to make a lot of money and the 'scam' was working beautifully. It was a basic cook out with real food and real beverages. The prices were higher than usual, but the price was still low compared to everywhere else. I had ordered a double cheeseburger, a root beer, and a Tall Boy of Amp. As I waited at the table. I watched everyone. Just watched. I was still the new kid and had gone through tons of hazing and was finally found as 'cool'. I was usually quiet and lay back, which seemed to be the reasoning of the 'cool' rank._

_Nazz was coming up from the south-side; basically no-man's land. I didn't care, though; a beauty shop was down that way and to the right and I knew that Nazz went there to get her hair and nails done. But as she came closer, I saw that she had a gash on her arm and tear rivers on her face. _

_"Nazz, what's wrong?" I asked, concerned that some jerk from the other cul-de-sac two miles over had mugged her. _

_Instead of answering, she reached into her pocket. I tensed a bit; a no answer from Nazz was bad news. Through the denim of her jeans, I saw that her hand now clenched into a fist around something. One finger moved from the fist and a bulge was visible. Her hand wrapped around whatever object it was. Then she attacked._

_She had a sharp folding knife in her hand. She lashed foreword, slashing madly at me. I knocked the knife hand away from me with brute force; the knife flew towards Sarah and Jimmy. She attacked with her fingernails. I dodged to the left and grabbed the hand, squeezing down hard and moving my hand in a circular motion. She howled in pain._

_I was dumb. I should have been watching her other hand, but instead was watching her mouth in case she tried to bite me. She produced a .45. She shot and missed me, but nailed Sarah in the shoulder. She was thrown to her back and cried in pain. I could see the blood rapidly beginning to form a puddle. I kicked the gun from her hand and caught in with my free hand, pistol whipping her on the temple with all my force and momentum. She flung to the side, unconscious._

_I pulled the tiny lever on the handle of the gun that released the magazine and threw the two objects in two separate areas and took off my shirt._

_I put my shirt to the bullet wound, applying direct pressure as gently as I could. Sarah wasn't lucky, she didn't pass out._

_After everyone's shirt was off and still the blood was soaking through the make-shift bandages, I tried to remember the four steps for severe bleeding; Direct Pressure…Elevation…Pressure Point…Tourniquet. We could get elevation; it was a shoulder wound and it would have been pointless to do more damage my moving her. So I skipped two and went for pressure point; the area were you can feel the bones and muscle on the side of you're arms. Giving the bandages to Kevin and telling him to keep pressure on it, I tried. For half a minute, the pressure point failed._

_Tourniquet. The most risky thing to do to a person cutting off the flow of blood to stop the blood. But Sarah would lose her arm in the ten minute wait for the ambulance to arrive. Then again, the bullet would have killed several major points in the muscle, joints, and bones; she most likely lose it anyway. _

_I ordered Edd to get me Eddy's grilling apron. He did and I used my multi-tool to cut the strings in the back. I put it under Sarah's arm and did a single, tight Granny knot. The skin began to turn red on the undamaged side of the wound; soon her entire arm was pale and white. No going back now. I tied a slip knot and fed an end of the rope through it and closing the slip knot. I sat back, exhausted. I checked myself for shock as well as I could, then checked everyone. _

_A tearing of cloth and a weak scream took me away from Kevin, who was showing signs of growing shock. I whirled around and saw that Nazz had found her knife…and gun. She tore the knife from Sarah's stomach and jabbed it into he lung. Sarah began to weezingly cry._

_"Nazz…stop." I said in am authoritive voice that I used for dogs; low and soft, but with authority. Most often dogs get yelled when they do something wrong or don't listen. Do something that doesn't hurt them mentally or physically and they will obey. It didn't work with Nazz._

_She tore it from the lung and began to slowly slice down the middle of Sarah's, cutting the cloths and the skin. She had came to the neck._

_She began to lightly cut Sarah's collar area, making scratches no worse than paper cuts._

_I felt the heavy and small multi-tool in my pocket. I didn't put the blade back when I had cut the apron._

_"Nazz…don't do it," I began to plead. The others began to beg as well. Bad move._

_Nazz began cringe at the loud noises and raised the knife. _

_I threw the multi-tool. The blade didn't hit her, but it knocked the knife out of her hand. She didn't stop bringing her hand down. She grabbed the edges of Sarah's throat and tore her voice box out. Blood gushed everywhere. Sarah shivered and began to pant in hyperventilation breaths. Nazz to out the gun._

_"NO!" I screamed and she put it down to Sarah's head and looked at me._

_She began to squeeze the trigger slowly._

_And stopped before the shot would go off. A look of dumb came across her face. I began to hope for the best._

_Then she squeezed it the rest of the way._

_And laughed._

I shivered and looked at my soldiers. I began to tear up.

"We're against terrorists that defiantly have at least one gun and maybe Molotov cocktails if they're smart; the Kankers have so much booze in their trailer its like a liquor store. Let's go to the club house."

Edd POV

The projectile weapon in my hand seemed heavy to me. So did the several boxes of ammunition that I had stuffed into my pockets.

In my thirst of knowledge, I discovered that the name of the weapon in my hand was a nine millimeter. Its brand was Glock and its ammunition was center-fire. It could be submerge in water, ice, or mud and still fire. It could be overheated in an inferno or dechemicilized and still shoot. Glock was a company in Australia that also made shotguns and rifles.

I also knew that the psychology of Nazz has become riddled with clouds…aka; she's lost it.

As Jason led the way to the club house, every sound that a normal wood would make caused me great spasms of nervousness. I could almost feel my frontal lobes beginning too swell under great pressure. I was light headed. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to vomit.

But I couldn't until we got into the tree house. So I marched with Ed, back to back, watching all directions so we literally had each others back. Everyone else was like this too, except for Jason, who was farther ahead of us than comfortable. He crouched in the grass, moving swiftly ahead.

When we had finally made it to the club house, he stopped and signaled for everyone to go up. He went up last, tucking the pistol in his hand into his belt.

Kevin began to yank on the generators cord and soon light filled the diminutive, coarsely made room.

No one slept a wink, all too scared of the fanatical slayer of the naïve and guiltless who now wreaked confusion and disorder upon us. Nazz…

I began to find myself forcing my eyes open.

Something wintry was deposited onto my cheek and I bolted erect. Jason had pressed a canister of energy beverage onto my face. It was a can of 'Rock Star' and the label read 'Party Like a Rock Star!'. It was a sixteen liquid ounce can and the back nutrition label read that it had two servings. Below the traditional nutrient guide, there was a list of the energy supplements; Taurine, Guarana, Caffeine, Inositol, and several other entertainingly named ingredients.

He waved it in front of my face and popped it open.

I took it from his hand and sipped it. An almost instant rush of energy ran through my spine; it had a very superior taste, citrus like. My spine tingled again and my muscles began to involuntarily twitch. I noticed that the spasms were visible. The base of my cranium began to buzz and my mind began to whirl in fast foreword. I suddenly gained control of my muscles and realized that the after taste of the first drink was exquisite, surpassing the initial shock. I placed my lips to the rim of the canister and drank again, small sips that left the better after taste; bigger gulps left no after taste.

Jason must have noticed my reaction to the drink.

"First time?' he inquired and smiled, popping open a can of Liquid Ice, Red Bull, Amp, Rock Star, Full Throttle, and Von Dutch. he poured them into a medium-sized plastic bottle, twirled it to mix, and drank in sips. I saw his muscle tighten and his drinking arm begin to shake. He finally stopped a scrupulous long drink and began to gasp.

"Ran out of air," he said, shaking his head.

He passed it around, everyone taking long sips.

Everyone was soon drunk of energy drink; Kevin was doing push ups like mad, Jimmy was retching out the only window, and Rolf was sitting down calmly, but his mouth was running a mile a minute. Johnny was shaking, Ed was laughing, Eddy was ranting about birds. But Jason was sitting calmly, not talking, but smiling at the others reactions.

"Were I came from," he said. "There were parties were we brought non-alcoholic beers. But those tasted like shit, so we bought colossal amounts of energy drinks and mixed 'em with pops, each other. what ever. You'll get used to it. Oh, God, you guys are gonna die when the buzz goes out the window!"

It was like a grand party, everyone having fun, not caring about tomorrow.

Then the shot.

Rolf POV

The glass of a bottle of liquids passed Rolf's head as he talked about Nana's back hair. It landed hard and rolled like a pig in mud on a hot day. A n ignited work-rag was inserted into the bottle. It rolled to a stop, not shattering. Rolf picked it up and examined it with the eye of a Son of a Shepard.

It was then one of the Ed Boys yelled and Jason grabbed it from Rolf and threw it out the window. While gazing out to see what was going on, Rolf saw its flame expand with the sound of broken glass.

Another flame started on the ground and Rolf saw it came at him. Next to him, Jason pulled a handgun (which is actually what they are called, not explosive sticks) and shot at it. It exploded in mid-air, lighting the scene below us for a moment.

Go-Go Nazz Girl was below, along with the Nasty Ninny Kanker Sisters. They had torch sticks in their hands and were lighting them and tossing them at us.

Kevin joined Rolf and Jason at the window and slid the bolt of his rifle shut. The Ed boys joined us and they all attacked below at once. A thick smoke clouded the early morning sun and Rolf waved his hand and blew as to get the smoke out of his face. It finally cleared and Rolf saw that the girls were no longer below them.

Then Rolf fell back as an airborne metal stone hit his shoulder, twisting him in hard and cruel circles. He stood and felt another go through his heart. He was flung across the room and it began to fade as though someone was extinguishing the flame of the lantern.

Johnny the Wood Boy ran to Rolf, holding Plank in one hand and a revolver in the other.

"Rolf, are you OK?"

And Rolf knew his time was gone when he heard Plank the 2x4 talk to him; '_Rolf…how do you want to be put to rest?"_

And Rolf answered "Burn to ashes and spread across his homeland in-"

And Rolf could no longer speak or listen or feel or see. He could only do nothing.

Jimmy POV

With the others shooting guns at Nazz and the Kankers, I hid the corner of the room, opposite of were they fired.

A pause in the firing made my heart fill with hope, then it shattered as I watched Rolf fly into the wall of the room. He was flying when he hit, but his feet caught his weight, but gave as they weakened. As he slowly slid down the wall, he left a blood mark that made me sick. He was breathing funny and let go of his gun; it clattered to the floor made me as heart broken as ever.

Johnny came over and began to yell in a panicky voice. I knew that his life was gone and he would go to heaven, just like Sarah. But I wanted Sarah back to earth and I wanted Rolf to stay here.

He died as I approached him. He was limp and pale all over, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his chest wound bleeding badder than I ever did.

He then jolted up and grabbed my shoulder. I wanted to fall backwards so the dead Rolf wouldn't touch me, but something in his eyes made me less afraid. It was desperation to say whatever his troubled soul was wanting to say.

'Jimmy the Soft One," he said. "Avenge the death of a Son of a Shepard."

And he fell back.

I cried into my hands, the gun in my hand pressing into my braces.

Then I stood and shot out the window with a black heart; Nazz would pay…Nazz would pay…

A/N: This is my second Ed, Edd, and Eddy story ever and the first sucked. I hope this one didn't. I am going to delete the first because it was poorly written and rewrite it after I am done with this story. I also want to say that say that I love the cartoon and I hope this chapter gets at least seven reviews before I post the next…thank you all for reading. NOW REVIEW…or not. BUT IT"S BETTER TO REVIEW…but you don't have to. BUT I LIKE REVEIWS…not that you'll actually care…OR YOU MIGHT! HA!


	2. The First Funeral

Kevin

Jason gave the cease fire and ordered us to duck. He reloaded a .45 in his right hand, then the sub-machine gun that he had taken from Rolf's body. He slammed the extended magazine of the MP9 against his knee, then kneeled with only his eyes above the window sill. He chuckled and opened the trap door of the club house.

"I need you guys to be back up," he said, then gestured for me to follow him.

I did and saw the joyous sight of the Kanker with the red hair that was like an afro laying in a pool of blood. And yelled in surprise as Jason shot her seven or twelve more times.

"What the fack was that for!"

"Making sure she's dead," he said. "Might have been a trap; Sarah's blood, pretending to be dead…"

Next to her was a Molotov with a lit end. I picked it up and gave it to Jason. He cast his eyes down to it and sighed, looking up at the others in the tree house.

"C'mon down-and bring Rolf," he called.

And then the ceremony began. Rolf was in his Urban Ranger uniform. Johnny and Jimmy and Plank were in their uniforms, making the queer hand signs. Jason twirled the bottle in his hand, looking down at Rolf with a pity that no one should give; I knew somehow that Jason felt that he should have died, not Rolf.

"Rolf was the leader of the Urban Rangers," he said slowly. "He had been a hard worker and a fiercely loyal friend. He died defending his honor and his friends. For this, he gets the seat to the right hand side of God…" he paused for a moment. "Or whatever god he worshipped."

It wasn't a bad religious joke that you might think it is; Jason didn't know what or who Rolf worshipped.

Everyone went by his body on the ground, saying their good-byes.

Jason threw the Molotov into the air. It twirled around and dropped on the rim on Rolf body. The Captain Morgan spread across his body and ignited the wood chips and sticks that he lay on and that surrounded him. Johnny and Jimmy began to make a tent like thing out of wood, leaning two logs together then making another right next to it. The did this all round Rolfs body and Johnny and Jimmy sat back. Jimmy began to drum out a sad tune that I think went along with what Johnny was playing on a bugle; 'Taps', I guess.

The raging fire burned quickly and soon only ashes were left.

"He wanted his ashes to be spread across his home land," Johnny said.

A sudden wind blew the ashes eastward, towards his house.

"This is his home land," I said, smiling.

The other left. I had turned on my heels when something gold got my eye. I bent down and saw a gold locket that he had always worn.

I opened it and saw his old picture; the one with a pig kissing him while he walked across his farmland with a happy expression on his face. It was black and white, from the Old Country that he always talked about. And then their was a picture of the entire cul-de-sac, even with the Dorks, but not Jason.

I hung it around my neck and never took it off. I wanted to remember what I was fighting for.

I wanted to remember Rolf.

A/N: Sorry about the short update. I wanted this to be a more…I can't think of the word. I wanted this to me more sad than just to be blurred out by the events that happens next. I will now answer questions:

Were did Jason get his guns? Well, against his father wishes (or not), Jason had broken into his father gun collection. After a bit of research, I discovered that you can legally own an MP9 with a permit. I'm pretty sure that it's the same permit you need to own an assault rifle.

How did Nazz lose it? Well, you'll find out in a totally different story(ies).

How did Nazz join the Kankers? You'll find out in the next chapter.

Where are their parents? Jeez, I dunno…I think I remembered having everyone's parents writing the same note in a different story yet to be posted. Something about a two year long business trip…I dunno. I'd have to read it to remember.

I just want to thank my two reviewers King of Werewolves and FanofDa'EdBoyz. King gave me the idea to name the story and Fan gave me the idea to fill in the gaps. He also gave me a long review, which made me quite happy. Now, ROCK ON! Review please! Or you'll get no desert!...er…thanks! Or something. God, I'm getting old….


	3. Downtown Massacre

Jason POV

I looked at the map with a trivial annoyance that danced across my face.

"You sure this isn't another one of you're brother bull-shit maps?" I asked Eddy, who had went into his brothers room for shit.

"Totally! It was in a metal box that was rusted through the-"

_We had snuck upstairs to see if eddy's brother kept any guns up there. The usual locks were picked and the door was forced open by a Tae-Kwon-Do kick that Kevin and I had learned at Camp Wilderness last year. The room's neglecting smell made you're mind whirl; it smelled like a mix of cheap and expensive cologne and a small reek of perfume. I noticed that there was a couple dozen notches on the bed post. I was about to point his out when a large snake twirled itself around my feet, tripping me. I pointed down at it with my MP9, but hesitated. It would break my legs, maybe parallelize me from the waist down. It was a constrictor, a boa constrictor. _

_Eddy lifted a metal box above his head, about to throw it, when he noticed something on it and stopped. It was Ed who saved me, grabbing the snake and actually forcing it off me. He threw it into the trunk of an old Lincoln car that sat in the side of the room; why it was there? There fucking clue._

_"Guys, listen to this," Eddy said, gesturing to the note taped onto the box. "_Bro, if you ever need help, use what's inside. If you've guessed by now, I'm usually fooling around with you. Not this time, dude. I got a feeling you'll need this if someone lost it. I think N-"_ he stopped there and looked up at me. "I can't read the rest. It's all smeared."_

_I looked at the rust on the lock. It was pretty thick, and maybe the lock would break instantly. I threw the box down on the side with the lock on it. It bounced for some reason, and it popped open. Inside was a piece of paper and an envelope. In the envelope was a couple of twenties-I hid these in my pocket before Eddy saw them; the last thing we need is Greedy Eddy to come back-and unraveled the paper._

_It was yellow and faded looking, but you could see it was a map. I looked at the icons; a house, a gun, a grenade, a car, and a second house, but in a blue ink instead of red, like the first house._

"Vote: Should we follow the map?" I asked.

To my disbelief, everyone raised their hands. I had raised mine, too.

"Well, c'mon then. Let's…go."

Jimmy POV

The first icon we found was the gun. Hanging in the air like a pirate on the gallows was an old and rusted revolver. I know, my talking has become as black as my heart.

Jason said it was an old .45 and that it was maybe from the Pony Riders days. I thought that the Pony Riding idea was stupid and why a person riding a _pony_ need a gun?

"Because," Jason said, tucking the revolver in his pocket. "The Pony Riders was a type of early mail service. The Indians and outlaws wanted the mail and so the Pony Riders, actually riding stallions, had guns to protect themselves. My Grandpa has a Pony Rider set; rifle and revolver." He turned away, looking sad. The old Jimmy came out for a moment.

"Are you OK, Mr. Jason?"

"Yeah, kid. Let's just get going."

After about a mile, the second icon appeared. An unused hand grenade was in a glass box half buried underground. Gingerly, Jason had picked it up and looked at it with artistic eyes. He tossed it, and everyone but him ran for the hills. It rolled and straightened itself, but not detonating.

He picked it up again and tucked it into his pocket by the lever, it hung loosely and freely.

As we continued, my boredom set in. I began to skip and hum, which I hadn't done since Sarah…

I stopped myself and continued on with a sober face. My walk was a strut that looked like every step I took was planned.

After a five minute walk, we came across the old car. It had rust and the lot on it and was barely suitable to drive, not that I think it would. The motor was probably stolen a long time ago.

And then we continued on to the blue house.

Nobody expected that it would be what it was…

Eddy POV

My brother was so cool to leave this map for me. I mean, c'mon, how often does you're brother get a physic vision, then leave you stuff! Not very often, and since this trail had so far been straight foreword and not a joke, I hadn't lost my cool. But the walk was uncomfortable because I had two pistol hanging out of my pockets and a shotgun in my hands; Monobrow had been an idiot again and was trying to shoot some birds way back. Not that I cared; they're just dumb birds. But he was shooting right next to my ear, so I got pissed off and took it away from him.

Jason, the 'leader', was marching us along the junkyard. It was a long, un-comfy, and boring walk. I even saw Fluffy (I liked the nickname, not that I'd ever admit it to Jock-Boy in front of me) skipping and humming in boredom.

But what we saw was unbelievable.

Well, we saw nothing at first. Jason got pissed and threw down the map, shooting holes into it. But he stopped when the wind took it and he missed a shot. And heard a metallic and hollow thump of the bullet hitting a metal something. he went over to it and shot at it again, the slug of the shot ricocheting off and landing at Kevin's feet.

He put his hand in a pile of garbage and pushed it aside. Under the trash was a large metal door. Jason knocked on it with his knuckles. Hollow sounding. Everyone started helping him dig it out. Except for me, of course; kings don't dig in garbage. but Ed grabbed me, the big Lummox, and pushed me into a toaster, and moved me left to right, using me like a damn broom to get garbage out of the way. I struggled out of his grip and began to toss can after can, toaster and toaster, TV after stinking bag of garbage, over my shoulder. Eventually, Jason found the handle in the middle and broke the lock off. Lifting it with the help of Kevin and Ed, they opened it.

Double Dee, being the 'find-the-easier-way' kinda kid, fumbled for a light switch while we went in with a flashlight. He found it and clicked it on.

I couldn't believe what I saw.

Kevin POV

In the garage kind of thing was an arsenal of guns. I would recognize a SPAS shotgun and AK-47 and RPG from Grand Theft Auto, but the rest was foreign to me. Jason, right next to me, grabbed a pistol from a shelf and looked at it carefully. It was a large revolver, kind of dusty. But it looked like that…uh…Dessert Eagle? Yeah, the Desert Eagle from Vice City, San Andreas, and Liberty City Stories.

I grabbed an RPG and notice a backpack on the ground. On the back were three RPG missiles. On the sides were missiles and in side the bag was a broken RPG. I picked it out of the bag and showed it to Eddy to get a raise out of him. I made sure my face went along with my mock and said, "Jesus, Eddy. You're brother leaves, broken down shit for us? Thanks a lot!" I said the last part sarcastically and watched his face turn red, then purple.

"It's collapsed, Kevin," Jason said, taking it from me. He flicked his wrist and several parts formed a straight line. He then took a piece of metal from the side and screwed it into a hole. "It's for storing it while you're walking. Sorry, dude, but this round goes to Eddy."

I shrugged, but was peeved. Man, I must have looked like an idiot back there! But I calmed down when I realized that it was Jason who knew that it wasn't broken, not Eddy. So Eddy was as clueless as I was. but not when Jason got done teaching me everything he knew…

Jason looked down further into the garage. Strapping a tactical holster to his upper, outer thigh and putting a pistol in it, he walked into the shadow part. I was urged to follow him and asked him to teach me, but I resided (Yo, man, leaving in the same cul-de-sac as Double Dee, you learn a new word) the temptation (or two).

But I fell back on my butt when an RV came at me. I jumped to the side. It braked and the person inside came out. It was Jason. I looked at the back of it and saw that a Hummer was being towed by the RV.

"Load up two of each weapon for yourself," he said. "Except the RPG. Just load up two of those and all the missile you can find. Be careful with them, too."

I raised my hand.

"What?"

"Shouldn't we, like, take it all? I mean, we got three psychos on our tail..."

"No. You can take all the ammo out of the other guns, but we're not taking them all. If we need to carry them, we want it to me light. Just follow my orders. Two of each kind for each of you, except for the rocket launchers. Just bring two of those and all of the missiles you can find."

We loaded the RV up and set out for downtown. As we went, a sudden thought occurred to me.

"Why can't we just call the cops or 911?" I asked.

"Nazz is the only one who has a cell phone and they've screwed up the telephone wires by shooting them or something. I tried. The phones don't work. So we need to go downtown to make the call."

I popped the question.

"Can you teach me everything you know?"

Jason chuckled. "Like…?"

"Guns…and weapons…and…and stuff."

"Hand me the 9 millimeter in you're belt."

I looked down and saw that I had three handguns in my belt. I grabbed one, but thought it was wrong, so I grabbed another, thought it was wrong….

"It's the one with the weird looking 'G' on it….for 'Glock'."

I handed it to him and he took out the magazine. He popped a bullet out and did the same to one of his guns. He showed the to me, side to side.

"Which is bigger?"

"The one on the right."

"Which Is bigger; a nine or a forty-five?"

"Uh…forty-five?"

"You're guessing, but you got it right. So, which is the bullet I took from you're gun?"

I reached for the smaller one, but he stopped me.

"Gotcha. The smaller one is a twenty-two bullet. Look at this one and look at the ones in you're magazine."

I did and noticed the one in his right hand was the one for my gun. I took it and put it into the chamber and cocked it, pissed that he tricked me.

"Listen, dude," he said. "When I'm done with you, you'll know the what kind of ammo goes to which gun by feeling it blind folded."

I silently took his word for it and began to doze off in the top bunk of the bunk bed that was built into the RV.

A crash and an explosion awoke me fast.

"What happened!" I yelled.

"The Kankers were here," Jason said solemnly. "They…they…"

I looked out and was horrified by the sight. Hundred of people…still on fire…some butchered…

And Nazz was still at work with a little boy who was still alive and screaming for his mom.

Against my instincts and the command to be silent, I put the Dessert Eagle out the window and shot.

And missed…

Nazz hacked the machete down one more time and turned towards us. She had a head in one hand and a gun in the other. And she began to walk slowly towards us…

A/N: No, A/N does not stand for Assholes/Note. I just wanted to say…CLIFFIE! That answered some of my own questions, like 'Why didn't they just call the cops?' Well, there you go. The last chapter, only one person reviewed, but it was long and happy and I am sorry for calling you a 'he' FanofDa'EdBoyz…I used to have a friend on the Code Lyoko side of the website that had Jimbonoion or something like that for a name and I said 'he' in an email. She politely corrected me, like you, and didn't whip my ass or anything. Alright, if you don't review, I will be forced to shut this story down!...or not…OR MAYBE I WILL!...naw, I won't. I just want some reviews, peoples! Not that I need reviews, no…it's just reviews help me solve and fill in gaps in the story line to make it better. That's why Fan is so vital to have: she (I am right this time, right?)gives me a long review with comments or questions and I fill them in. Now, push the little review thing on the bottom and review…


	4. Gunfight

Jason

I was only a little peeved. Honestly. I mean, all Kevin did was attract the attention of a psychopathic serial killer. But we had rocket launchers and AK-47's. Fuck it. I was _pissed._

I grabbed Kevin from the scruff of his shirt and jerked him down as Nazz began to shoot.

"Jimmy!" I yelled. "SPAS shotgun! Now! Johnny, AK-47! Kevin…" I looked down at him. "Ammo boy."

He looked at me sheepishly, but he realized what his job was. He was as pissed as I was. Before he could throw a punch, I threw him down and grabbed a Dragnuv sniper rifle. I rested it down on the dash and looked down the scope. Nazz was reloading and ducking, using a pile of decapitated and butchered bodies as non-struggling human shields. She looked up and fired. I ducked and forced Kevin down; he was up and ready to start either fighting or firing. The bullet clipped me shoulder, taking a thin chunk of meat from it.

A Molotov hit the side of the RV, igniting the metal.

"Get out!" I yelled. "Bail!"

Jimmy passed me. he saw the blood. He saw the wound. He stopped.

"Go!" I said, struggling backwards. "Just leave me a gun and I'll be fine."

"No," he said. And stood his ground.

Jimmy

I saw Jason, bloody and wounded, and I knew I had to stay. He was going to be killed. I wasn't going to let Nazz, the best friend, kill another. I had to repay her for the two lives; Sarah and Rolf. I pumped the shotgun and stood in front of Jason.

I heard him fumbling with something in the background, but I only focused on the approaching Nazz. I raised my shotgun to shoulder, aimed.

And something behind me fired just as Nazz did. The first bullet, Jason's, hit the melting metal of the front of the RV. It collapsed. The second just made it under. And hit me in the chest.

I fell back in shock and amazement. Blood squirted from my chest like a twisted SuperSoaker. I seemed to be suspended in the air forever before I landed on the ground with a hard thump.

"Jimmy!" Jason screamed. "Jimmy! Oh, shit! Oh, fuck, oh shit!"

He came over to me. His hands tore my blue turtle neck and I braved to look down. I saw a mini fountain of blood. I let my head fall back. It hit the ground with another thud.

"Am…I…am I…gonna…" I shivered; the room seemed so chilly all of a sudden. "Am I gonna…die, Mr. Jason?"

"No!" he screamed, looking at me. The same desperation in his eyes. The same desperation as when Rolf had died. "Damn it! The blood won't stop! Fuck! Jimmy, stay awake! God damn it, Jimmy, stay awake! Stay the fuck awake! I can't handle another loss! This is all _my fault_!" He took the gun from his belt and turned away. I looked up feebly and saw that he was shaking and pointing the barrel to his head. I could hear him sobbing.

"Don't…Mr.…Jason…" I said. "What…happened?"

"Damn it! Don't talk, Jimmy. It wastes energy." He reached in his pocket and produced two small cans; one Liquid Ice, the other RedBull. "Which one do you want. Point." I did and he brought the Liquid Ice to my lips. I sipped and drank.

CRASH! It sounded like an airplane had crashed next to us.

BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BANG! The Ak-47s going off?

Jason threw himself around me as bullets began to pierce the melting metal. He looked up and grabbed the boo-boo kit (Sarah used to call it that) and a blue vest with FBI stenciled onto it with white paint and picked me up and brought me outside.

It wasn't much better outside. It was a total gunfight. I picked up a revolver laying on the ground and shot towards the enemy. Jason ripped it from my hand and laid me down on his orange, zip-up jacket. He opened the first aid kit (which is what its really called) and took out two pieces of gauze and a big roll of brown stuff that looked like gauze. He picked me up by the shoulder with one arm so that my bullet wound was shown. He placed the two pieces of gauze there and put the roll underneath me, rolling some out. I began to feel dizzy for some reason. Light headed. He put two patches of gauze where the bullet had entered and wrapped the entire roll of brown gauze all around my bullet wound.

"Jimmy, I want you to put on this vest, okay?" he asked me in a way calmer voice than before.

"I…don't wanna…it's…ugly…"

"It's bulletproof."

He helped me put it on and hid me away in the corner, surrounding me with blankets that he had taken from the RV beds. He then put me in a metal sheeting tent and told me to stay still and try not to use to much energy. He placed a large can of Full Throttle at my side. He had already opened it for me. How nice…

Johnny

Plank was watching all flanks as I shot guns at the Kankers. And, weirdly, Nazz thinks she one of the Kankers, too.

_"Left! Left!" Plank yelled._

I turned to the left and saw that the Kanker with the red afro coming towards us.

_"Didn't we-isn't she dead?" _Plank and me yelled at the same time.

I turned towards Kevin, who was firing an AK-67 (I think) at Nazz. He was into it and was trying to hit her, but she dodged into the piles of dead bodies before the spray of bullets could hit her. He slumped down when his gun made a noise like this: CHA-CHA-CHA-CHA-CHA! He slumped down, using the metal barricade in front of us as a shield while he handed Plank his empty magazine and reloaded his new one. Plank was the ammo boy. Wasn't that great!

Plank was really good at ammo boy, too. I would look away for a second and he'd have the clips ready to go. He handed it to me and I slipped it into Kevin's pocket.

I began to fire with the gun that looked like the one Kevin was using, except it was smaller, black and the wire butt (ha, ha, ha! Butt!) could collapse to the did and there was a switch that made it go BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM really, _really _fast.

I turned towards Nazz as she popped up and me and Kevin began to fire at her. But she was graceful like a ga…ga…whatever Double Dee called it and we missed every one. She turned towards me and shot. I ducked. And the bullet hit something hard, splintering it.

"Ha, Nazz aim sucks, right, Buddy!" I said to Plank and began to fire back.

There was no reply.

"Buddy? Plank?"

I looked down and saw him lying down.

"Jeez, buddy! You need to pick yourself up before someone…trips…over…NO!"

I grabbed him and got several splinters in the fingers. He had a huge hole in the middle of him, the wood that he was was spread all over in fluffy balls. I began to drop down near him and cry.

"_Johnny, go on," _Plank said soothingly. _"Be strong. There's…a…a…a…" _He shivered in my hands. _"There's an entire supply store of Planks in the world….just stop them…"_

I laid my best friends down to rest and fought again. But this time….it was personal…

Kevin

I saw Fluffy come out being carried by Jason. I was reloading at the time. He had a chest bullet shot, but he was wide awake. Jason laid him down on his trademark orange jacket and had administered first aid to him. He then slipped on a jacket over his head and swaddled him up in blankets, putting him in a fort made out of metal sheeting.

He ran back into the RV, which was on fire and melting.

I heard a shot cry out and ducked. I saw a piece of wood go flying. As it twirled, I could make out that it was…oh, shit! It was Plank!

Jason ran out just as Johnny had got done talking to it and began to fire. He was wearing on of the vests that he had given Jimmy and he handed the rest out to us.

"It's worth shit at point blank!" he yelled, cocking an MP5. "But it'll maybe prevent you from dying."

He began to fire as I popped up and began to fire. Johnny was down, reloading his gun. Jason ran out and began to reload. He popped up with Johnny and began to fire.

I shot at a Molotov that was coming towards me. It shattered, illuminating the ground.

I looked over and saw that a Molotov was coming towards Jason. he put out his hand sideways and caught it. In the same motion, he threw it back. It shattered on an old, beat up Lincoln and chickened out the two Kankers hiding behind there. We shot at them…but they were behind a pile of bodies too quick.

I felt Jason pushing me down. I was pissed; how dare he stop my shots!

"Grenades!" he yelled. "On three!"

I dropped my AK-47 and got out a grenade.

"Hold down the lever and pull on my mark, but don't throw!"

He made sure everyone did as he said. He then let us pull the pins. I did with my teeth. I almost threw it, but my survival instincts told me not to.

"On three, you throw. One!"

Ed was looking determined. I guess the dork was trying to figure out when three would come.

"Two!"

Johnny was gasping from exhaustion. He was the first to have his energy drink high go low.

"THREE!"

We threw and ducked down, covering our ears. The explosion was still loud and clear, though. I was trying to get up to look, but Jason held me down. I felt a moment of anger; this…_dork!_...was trying to stop _me_ from seeing. But in a second, I saw why.

The Kankers and Nazz emptied their clips and ran away. Apparently, no one was killed (to my disappointment).

Jason jumped up and ran towards Jimmy. He was still alive, and wired. I could see a can of Full Throttle (empty) at his side. His eyes were wide and pupils huge…like a crack addict.

I fell back, second to fall victim to exhaustion. We hadn't slept or eaten anything in the past two days. It was taking it toll on me…


	5. Cock That Shit and Shoot Again

**A/N: Fuck, guys. Sorry about the wait. Just kinda lost train of thought in this. Anyway, thank you ZombieZapper101 for putting me on your C2 list, dawg. Anyway, there's gonna be some _habla espanol _in this. So I've got all the Spanish words at the end of the chapter. Basically, there gonna be _tu un perro, _which means 'you're a dog', with the wrong kind of 'your/you're'. Enjoy.**

**Chapter Five**

'**Cock That Shit and Shoot Again'**

**Jimmy**

I felt the perforated bruise slash gun wound on my side tenderly. Jason and Kevin had given me a shot of penicillin and used a bunch of antiseptics like salt-water, hydrogen peroxide, and something from a tube. Then they bandaged me up with fresh gauze.

Jason was by the fire we had made for the camp, taking apart the weapons we had used and cleaning them. He looked like he had aged ten years in the gun fight, but he wore a smile as he talked about some guy named Jeff Dunham.

"'Walter, how come I gag when I brush my toothbrush but not when I give my boyfriend oral sex?'" Kevin asked, grinning as Jason opened his mouth to give the answer.

"Well…the toothbrush is bigger."

There were howls of laughter from the older kids, even Johnny. I think he needed to laugh more than anyone else in the group since he lost Plank.

"Damn, that shit's fucking funny." Johnny said between laughter fits.

"'You know what gay people need that they don't have,'" Jason asked, preparing for a punch line. "'A gay super hero. Gayman! _Here I come to save the day! And I look fabulous! _Oh, and his butt whistles when he flies!" he began to whistle in a low tone, moving his hand across the dark sky. "'It's Gayman! Don't turn your back on him!'"

Kevin laughed and sighed, looking at his watch. "Shit, it's eleven. We should have half the people sleep and the other half on guard."

Jason nodded, throwing Kevin a MP5 across the fire. Kevin caught it and put it to his side.

"Okay, there's six of us active, so me, Kevin, and Edd will go on first look out. The rest of you sleep."

"What?!" I cried out. "There's seven! Kevin, Ed, Edd, Eddy, you, Johnny, me-"

"Yeah, but six _active_. You were shot bad and you need the sleep."

Mumbling, I slid into the sleeping fox-hole and felt the warm bodies of the Ed's against me. Not that I was a fag or anything, but it was nice to be next to someone you could trust…

_Sarah…_

**Jason **

I jumped into the north facing fox-hole and looked through the hole in the sandbags, dirt, car parts, and such that made our small camp. To my side was a .50 caliber SAW machine gun, which I had a night scope on it. Our night vision gear was out, and I looked through the binoculars and saw nothing. Maybe the Kanker's and Nazz got smart and jacked a car and went to a new town to terrorize with their military grade weaponry.

"Guys, I see a human figure on south-end." Kevin warned, and I could picture him with his finger on the button of the fog-horn that would awake the others to get ready to fight.

"Calm down, everyone stay on post. It could be a distraction."

"Rodger. Out."

I sighed and wondered what the figure was a dead body that the sick bastards had put up like a scarecrow.

"Fuck!"

I grabbed the SAW and ran low towards the south wall where Kevin was. He was looking through his rifle scope, looking at the scarecrow more carefully. Leveling the SAW to my shoulder, I looked through the scope.

"Shit," I agreed, and lowered the machine gun.

The scarecrow…was Kevin's older sister. She was impaled through the…vagina and had the pole sticking out of her mouth. Kevin began to sob and I had to tear him away from his rifle.

"It's okay," I said soothingly, guiding him to the sleep hole. "Hey, Edd, wanna cover for Kevin?"

Edd nodded sleepily and threw the community blanket off and wrapping his own around his shoulders. Snow began to fall, and the temperature had dropped dramatically in the last few hours. Everyone else was awake as well, so we had everyone gather around the fire. Jimmy was double wrapped in his own blanket and the community blanket, gazing at the fire as it licked at the falling snowflakes.

"We're going to divide into two small teams and find a working, large vehicle. Maybe another RV, hopefully. You guys got an hour to get some shut eye before we head out-dawn will rise soon."

They all nodded and went to the sleeping hole, pulling a large piece of metal over the small entrance.

I couldn't sleep. My mind was too filled with thoughts that would equal nightmares once sleep was put into the equation.

Fuck.

**Kevin**

I thought I was up early, but Jason was already up. He looked like he hadn't slept all night and had a bad case of insomnia (another word educated by the Double D). He saw me and looked towards the south, knowing that would be one of the first places I'd look. I did and saw that the gross imitation of the Crucifix was no longer there, instead, a small cross was placed into a mound of snow.

Jason nodded to me and I did the same. We were cool again.

The others quickly awoke soon after and we were divided into teams. Team A was me, Eddy, and Johnny. B was Jason, Edd, Ed, and Jimmy.

"Change of plans, guys. Team A will look for two four wheel drive trucks and Team B will look for supplies and a stick wielder and saw."

Everyone nodded and I found myself agreeing with the basic idea of what we were going to do. Basically, we were going to cut the back of the two trucks where the bed met with the cab out and wield the two beds together. Not a bad idea, considering that Jason was wasted from two hours of sleep in three days and little to no food.

"Alright, everyone, move out," he said, and the two teams split up.

**A/N: Shut up, I know the impaling part was disgusting, but so is Nazz. So shut the fuck up and leave me alone. If you didn't like this chapter, I don't give a shit, just don't review and bitch and whine about it. Unless you can give me valid reasons why you didn't like it and give me some ideas to improve it without sounding like a little bitch, than don't fucking review if you don't like it. And you guys with flamethrowers: fuck yourself. You have a problem with other peoples writing because you can't fucking handle the fact that you suck at the basic English skills, you fucking ghetto rat. Go slither into your mom's womb, do a reverse pregnancy thing, and go back into your dad, you freak. On a better note, if you like it, please review and swear as much as you like at the niceness of my writing. I like it when people write: 'THIS FUCKING ROCKS!'. I love that. Please do it, but add a little more body to it telling me why it fucking rocks. Thank you, and see you next chapter. Hopefully I'll have it up before a month is gone.**


	6. Killing Spree, part 2

**Chapter Six**

**Killing Spree, part 2**

**Fball**

Nazz slammed her bloody fist into the side of a six year olds head, grabbing his ear as he fell. As the weight and moment of the body literally tore his ear off with a wet sound, Nazz shoved the Desert Eagle into his mouth and shot, throwing the cadaver over the railing and watching it fall down five stories. Turning around and facing the group who watched in horror of this sick and out of the blue violence, she pointed it at the grieving mother and shot. From across the square gap, one of the Kankers did the same ritual and shot the mother. Hell broke those not five seconds later, when the sniper fire of Marie, the blue haired, Goth of the group.

Slapping a teenager her age across the face, she grabbed her brunette mane and shoved her down, putting the gun to the back of her head and telling her to stay the fuck there. With the rest of the magazine, Nazz killed the rest of the crowd except for a boy, the brunette's boyfriends.

"See this!" Nazz screamed, grabbing the boy by his testicles and forcing him down. He screamed out at the sudden pain to his genitals, and nearly passed out as Nazz shot them. "What the fuck are you gonna do now? Suck a dick-less pussy like this fucker?" She brought him over to the edge, grabbing a machete on the way. Putting the poor young mans head on the railing; she raised the large, black blade…

And felt the metal splinters propel themselves into the webbing of her hands as the .45 bullet smashed into it. Looking angrily at the broken piece of metal, she drove it into the kid's back as she passed him, kicking the girl in the face as she passed her.

**Jimmy**

I watched in horror as Nazz was about to kill the older teenager with the machete, shooting on instinct from the Colt in my hand. Still watching in petrified immobility, she grabbed the gun from her fashionable hip belt and pointed it at me.

Kevin sprinted at her from the side, tackling her. The gun went spiraling over the hard linoleum floor and came to a halt at the very edge, teetering and threatening to fall and land on some poor person's head six stories down. Jason sprinted foreword along with Johnny and grabbed the teenagers, dragging them to a bathroom and treating them as quickly as possible. There was the crack of a large caliber rifle and Kevin slumped over, still fighting but with draining energy. Raising my pistol, I looked up a story and saw the blue haired Kanker with a rifle and scope. I shot three times, hoping to hit something, but my miracle aim was done with and I launched myself to the side, feeling a single bullet fly over my shoulder and crumble the wall at the behind me. Safely behind a stone pillar, I ejected my magazine and counted my bullet through the slot on the side. I had three more shots before I needed to reload, and I had no more magazines to spare.

Kevin scared the be-jibbers out of me as he appeared from nowhere, panting right next to me. He gasped as he began to slump over some more, his eyes glazing over…

I slapped him. The whiteness that seemed to cover his eyes was gone and he raised a fist my way on instinct. He lowered it almost immediately and said, "Thanks, Fluffy. Got a drink?"

I pulled out a small can of energy drink without looking at the label. It was a double Decker kind. He popped it open and drank lavishly. He threw the can to the side and suddenly began to vomit. I looked at the can as it conveniently rolled to display its label for me.

"What's Blue Agave?" I inquired, leaning against the pillar like I wished it would swallow me.

He began to laugh. "Tequila," he answered, wiping his lips with his index finger.

**Jason**

The girl passed out, and the guy was just plain fucking unlucky. When you have two crushed ping-pong balls in your scrotum, it fucking hurts. His body was convulsing beyond what I knew what to do for, so I…hit him over the head with the pistol. Massive head-ache, but maybe the broken testis thing would go away.

Johnny was at the side of me, firing shells from a shotgun. I gave him the finger and he leaned back, closing the door. Bags were under his eyes and he looked like shit. Digging through the medic-kit, I threw him a package of caffeine pills, which he popped the Pill-Z from Foamy the Squirrel. I popped a few as well and didn't feel the rush of the immediate dose of energy, instead overwhelmed by a need to piss…I unzipped my jeans and went as quickly as possible in the urinal, my urine seeming to be made of fucking acid and razor blades. The door exploded and I turned away, getting a little pee on the wall.

Grabbing the chick in a fireman's carry, I ran like the fucking devil was after me, jumping through the flames and joining Kevin and Jimmy. Kevin had just thrown up from another energy drink, and I knew that my plan wouldn't work again any time soon. The tureen and caffeine in the energy drinks released adrenaline and dopamine from your brain. We had abused it so much in the last three days that we were going immune to it, which could prove fatal if another Jimmy-chest-shot happens to come along.

Speaking of Jimmy, he was counting his bullets. He had three shots, which was bad since no one else had anymore .45 ammunition. Things were going down the tube fast as I watched a phone-line fall outside the window.

Johnny pointed to the pack on his shoulder, which held an RPG kit. I nodded and he loaded the small arms missile up. Sighing, I looked out the window and saw that the snow was still falling in large flakes.

Shit.


	7. POed Bitch and a Ballless Man

**A/N: I can fucking sing like no one else! We got this American Idol game for the PS2 that came with a mic that connected into the USB port, and I got perfects on 'Heaven', 'Break Away,' and 'Sugar, We're Going Down.' 'We're going down, down in an earlier round. And sugar we're going down swinging. I'll be the number one with a bullet. A loaded God complex cock it and pull it!' I fucking hate the grammar part of Spell-Check. Up there, when I wrote 'I can fucking sing like no one else', it wanted me to put 'I can fuck sing like no one else'! What the fuck?! How do I fuck sing?! Maybe I just hold it down, and…whatever. Read and review _el bastards!_ Not that you guys are bastards are anything, it's just…fuck it. Read and review. Foamy is the lord and master!!!!!**

**Chapter Six**

'**POed Bitch and a Ball-less Man'**

**Edd**

Upon inspecting at the testicular wound that the boy who called himself Adrian, I understood that he would continue to produce sperm, though he would be urinating blood for the next couple days. Other than that, we could do nothing for him except inject ten milliliters of morphine to put the pain away. Unfortunately, we had no morphine and Jason decided to strike him on the left temple to relive his pain, for we could do nothing else. Turning my gaze to the girl, Alyx, she appeared fine, except for a large discoloration of purple her left side of her face was turning. But the bruise would soon fade in the next week or so, so it did nothing to her health, not even mentally. But I fear that the testis blow that Nazz had delivered to Adrian would be another story, perhaps leading to trauma.

After checking up on the patients, I brought my gaze to Jason, who was staring at the world outside the window with a amount tranquility I had not seen since the beginning of the incident. I speculate he was looking at the telephone wire that had become severed during our battle with the Kankers plus Nazz.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

He turned and looked 'zoned-out', then answered, "Yeah."

Standing up, he announced, "Grab everything that's of use to us and try to find survivors. Maybe they got a cell-phone or are willing to help. Bring it to this floor. If it's big, use the elevator."

Everyone nodded in agreement, no one questioning his logic or reasoning. But I silently did ponder on why he was spacing out on us. The thought left my mind as I went with the others to grab supplies, with Jason in the back.

**Kevin**

I grabbed boxes of ammo and put it on the plastic sleigh that Jimmy had been in not thirty seconds ago. I gotta admit, Fluffy was a trooper. The gun wound had left him easily winded instead of his usual, piss-and-vinegar self, but the kid was pulling out. He walked with his back as straight as an arrow, and marched along, grabbing things he thought we needed and shoved them into the sled. After a couple minutes of this, though, he looked dead tired and sat on a nylon mesh lawn chair that was out for display. Grabbing a couple of boxes of those and two tents, I asked him, "How ya turning out, Fluffy?"

He smiled at the nickname I originally developed to tease him with. "Fine," he said, standing up and stretching.

"Cool. I think we got enough. Let's go show Jason the money!" I said, and Jimmy continued to smile.

As we trekked towards the elevator, we saw Ed looking through comics while Double D and Eddy were trying to move a huge box that I think was a tent.

I sighed. "Let's go." And we trudeged on.

**A/N: Fuck, guys. Short, I know. Sorry. Need advice. Advice is welcome. sigh what the fuck ever. Just review, dawgs. Oh, wait. Guess what, guys? This is my longest story via words in my entire archive. Over 10000 words! Shit, yeah!!!**


	8. Death or Mamba

**A/N: Holy shit, dawgs! Sorry for the wait. Shit's been hitting a fucking jet engine lately, making more of a mess than the usual fan. Fuck. It's been, like, three fucking months! Sorry! Anyway, I'm using some ideas that I got. And I figure I should thank those that did offer it. First off, my home-slice skillet-brisket homie dawg FanofDa'EdBoyz. Thanks, homes, and sorry for the gender confusion a while back 80 (stoned face, not Harry Potter, fuckas!) And to the other, but equally significant parts of advice that I will use AmarieC and andomreaderwhocantbemember...(the …at the end were his idea, not mine, just so you know). I'mma put some of those ideas together and try to make this as good as possible. Read on, faithful ones, and review, even if you wish to scorch me with the fury of a million flamethrowers. A review is a review to me…unless it's a good review, in which case it's fucking awesome! Anyway, READ.**

**Chapter Eight**

'**Death or Mamba?'**

**Jason**

I watched the others from the highest point in the Cabala's as they made dinner, their outlines smaller than an ant at my height. I wiped the tears from my eyes and sat down, continuing to cry silently. Suddenly, my mind flashbacked to the reason I moved here…when I still had my younger sister…

_Stacy reached for the jar of cookies, and I watched her futile acts in amusement; they happened everyday. Everyday, she would reach for the Oreo jar, but her small body just couldn't reach. After a few more moments of observing, I reached for the cookies and gave them to her, reminding her all she needed to do was ask and I would have gotten them for her. The only problem was that she was always munching on them when I was talking to her, the loud crunch probably severing her hearing for the few moments that she chewed before it turned into a mush and she swallowed, but she'd repeat and I just found it not worth it to even try to get her attention after the second bite, and I went back to doing my homework. Suddenly, my older brother barged in with a knife, a porno magazine in his other hand. I was surprised and jumped up. If I hadn't, I would have been the victim of what happened next, instead of Stacy…_

_Dave pushed aside the cookie jar and trapped Stacy underneath his weight, straddling her with his thighs. Unzipping his pants, he took his dick out and pulled Stacy's down. I jumped up and grabbed my older brother in a head-lock, trying to strangle him with my forearm. He stabbed down into Stacy and left the knife there, and yanked me off and began to beat me. I think I passed out, because I opened my eyes and I was in the hospital. My parents were open and filled me in on all the facts I didn't want to know. Stacy was dead, not from the stab, but from blood loss. Dave had some kind of schizophrenia that was triggered by the hockey puck to the head the night before. His nice side was called Dave, the kind I always knew that would have never attempted to rape his six year old sister or beat his eleven year old brother until he passed out. His other side was named Greg. Dave, or Greg, was sentenced to a decade in some insane asylum. Schizophrenia: a mental disability that causes someone to have split personalities…_

_Like Nazz…_

**Kevin**

"Yo, dawgs, where's Jason?" I asked, looking around.

"He said he'd be on the top floor, looking for weapons," Johnny said, curling up inside his warm sleeping bags. I couldn't blame him. It was snowing outside and Jason had postponed our hunt of Nazz and the Kankers. The temperature inside the store was well below zero, and the charcoal grill was toasty to be by. Add to the equation that fact that we had our first real dinner that wasn't made out of caffeine, it was cozy and sleep worthy. That's what exactly what he did, too.

Grabbing Thermos and filling it full of stew, I walked up all the stairs and saw him sitting on the ground, looking at the handgun section of the top floor.

"What up?" I asked, and handed him the Thermos.

"Nothing," he said, silently eating the stew before continuing. "Nazz has split personalities. Schizophrenia."

I made a face and asked, "How do you know? And I thought split personalities was bipolar."

"No, bipolar is pissed one minutes, high the next."

I nodded, but asked my first question again. "How do you know?"

He got silent and swirled the Thermos, draining the rest of the liquid. "I used to have a younger sister, and an older brother. My bro had the schizophrenia."

"What's your sister has to do with it?" I asked.

"He killed her."

I swallowed. That was some heavy shit right there.

"Listen, man…if you-"

"No," he said firmly. "I don't wanna talk about it. Damn it! I had to go to physical therapy and a counselor to make sure I wasn't skitz."

I nodded and got up stiffly. It was cold and sitting too long made you stiff all over.

"C'mon, man, let's get some sleep for the first time in four days."

I smiled at my own idea. It sounded nice. Really nice…

**Adrian **

I wanted to be dead. I honestly wanted death. My left nut seemed to be in my stomach and the other felt like it was sagging down the side of my leg. Suddenly, the migraine came along with all the goodness of the severe headache; dizziness, which leads to nausea, which leads to dehydration, which leads to dizziness again. Retching on the ground next to me, I woke up the kid with the fluffy, blonde-white hair. I think he was named Jimmy.

"Are you awake?" he asked, closing his eyes and stretching in his sleeping bag.

"Yeah. What's your name again?" I asked sheepishly; I was in pain when I learned their names, so I couldn't exactly just go naming them off the bat.

"Jimmy. Hey, we should probably clean that up if you know what I mean." he said, then rummaged through his bag on the side. "Hey, we found some Nicomorphine in the emergency aid kit. When Double D-" he pointed to a kid with a stocking cap on. "-wakes up, he'll give you some."

I nodded, then laid my head down again to rest. When I opened my eyes for the second time, 'Double D' was sticking a needle in my arm. Pressing the plunger, he administered whatever was in there and pulled it out, sticking it into a tube and screwing on the lid, with a label that read 'Bio-Hazard'.

It felt like the veins from the point of injection were on fire. Slowly, I began to close my eyes again, this time from the drug. Closing my eyes again, I relaxed and slept…


	9. Scare Tactics

**Chapter Nine**

'**Scare Tactics'**

**By Jeff 'Fball'**

**A/N: Hey, guys. It's been a while. If you even remember this story from a year ago, man, I fucking love you. If this entire story is new to you, maybe you should start from the beginning. There will be lapses and some random bits of information that were wrong because a year ago I did the bare minimum research. This year, shits different. Eighth grade English with Ibes is the fucking best for that (even though she really didn't teach us much on writing…more on research.) Anyway, man, I love you guys. This final chapter is dedicated to all the readers who got pissed and said UPDATE!! **

**I**

**Jason**

I couldn't sleep. All the others had fallen into a mini-coma, but I only slept for three hours before I woke up and felt revived. I'm strange like that. I don't need a lot of sleep, even if I went onto a seven day crack run (that was before Peach Creek). I sat on my sleeping bag and looked at the glass dome that was the majority of the ceiling. All around it were several animal heads, mostly 'dangerous' game from Africa that had to be fake because most of them needed a permit or was just plain illegal.

I lay down and continued to look about, at my team members. My soldiers. They laid in their sleep, for the first time in several days the death of the last few days put behind them. I got up and went to my own backpack and emptied its contents. Ammunition for guns we no longer had. Empty energy bar wrappers and energy drink cans. A small can of Root Beer was the only thing that I could find that was helpful. I put the garbage in the trash, then looked at all the ammunition. Why did we carry so many guns, really? It was like in a Stephan King book I had read before, _Desperation. _He had talked about how everyone in the town, Desperation, had a gun, but yet most only had them for show to ward off crooks and the such, and maybe not even for that. Maybe just for bragging rights. We had gone over board on the weapons. Would we scare Nazz and the Kanker sisters with eight AK-47s and ninety pistols, of any caliber? No, we were passed simple scare tactics. There was only one choice left. Take them out. No mercy, no excess weapons. What was I saying? That I was going to take a .22 and snipe her out? No, not with a .22. Maybe if I had a larger rifle, not necessarily a military weapon, but something right up that alley. What were most Marine sniper rifle's calibers? That was an easy question, one of the first they would likely ask you at a jarhead boot camp. .270. And what would be the best, but at the same time, light automatic rifle to go with that in case of a discovery? Well, if I had a spotter, a .50 SAW, but we didn't so much as have any fucking .50 ammunition any more. That left lightweight assault rifles. The best assault rifle ever? Again, the easiest question, though Americans might get a little pissed. The AK-47. Drop it in water, mud, or snow, and the mother fucker would still work. All it needed for cleaning was a light oil, and shoe lace with a couple of knots in it. So there were two weapons. What if they were in a vehicle? Sure, sniping the driver out would likely take out the entire vehicles if they were going at high speeds, but really…I needed an RPG. Simple.

But that was all weapons, no personal. We didn't need seven people to just follow four people and take care of the nutcases. But if it was only me, or just one person, the operation would likely fail. Somehow these people had a fucking ability to dodge bullets like Neo, but their luck couldn't last forever, could it? No, it couldn't.

And add to that problem this, the fact that we had a wounded twelve year old, shot in the fucking chest and bleeding his fucking heart out, almost literally? When did America become the hell hole that was in Sri Lanka? Never, is the answer. This was an isolated incident that needed to be taken care of immediately.

I got up and packed my backpack, looking at Jimmy while I did it. Maybe he should get some liquids in him, via IV. I saw the procedure on a movie once, and it does actually work, but I didn't know if any of the things I needed were here. Of course, before that, I never looked, but now that I think of it, they sort of had to. All I needed was a needle small enough to fit into a vein, some rubber hose, at the best surgical, at the least for a car, a water bottle, salt and sugar. I could make a shitty, ghetto IV with that, and it would likely work, but I doubted if the entire thing was kosher, if you know what I mean.

I searched for the objects, anyway, intending only to find them to see if they were there, but soon I was at my sleeping bag with my arms full of everything I needed. Sighing, I took the cap off the bottle and spilled some of it out, then put salt and water in about equal amounts into the bottle, shook it up. Then I took off the cap and popped a hole in it with a knife, then connected the surgical (yes, I was indeed that fucking lucky to find it) hose into it and super glued the edges on the outside and inside, securing the seal and making it leak proof. Then, I connected the needle as well at the other end of the hose, and super glued it. After an hour, I woke up Double D. He almost leaped up into the air and let out the most girlish, piggish squeal I had ever heard. I sat down calmly, waiting for him to settle his breath, then showed him the ghetto IV.

His eyes cocked, and he instantly took in the entirety of the IV. "An IV for Jimmy?"

"Yeah," I nodded, then instructed him on how to work it as I woke up Kevin. We had work to do.


	10. Fuck You

**A/N: Yeah, I'm back. Fuck, ****FanofDa'EdBoyz, I totally blanked out there about that story thing for…um…A FUCKING YEAR?? I realized that I am indeed a douche. (Also, I added you to this new DocX thingy that wasn't there last time I checked and it said pending so ya )) Anyway, last chapter was a lot of thinking, no action, in this chapter I'm going to say FUCK THAT SHIT and go ahead with uncanny violence. Also, this might be the last chapter. So expect this to be long. Read now:**

**Chapter Ten**

'**Fuck you'**

**Kevin**

I only woke up, I guess, since Jason was shoving me awake. I looked up and saw that he had found a shower room and a new change of clothes. He was wearing denim cargo pants and a heavy duty cotton grey shirt with a zip up sweatshirt. Yawning, I asked where the shower was and he pointed me in the general direction. On my way there, I searched for clothes that would fit me. Hell, they even had my favorite brands here. Element, Volocom, Billabong…damn, I always said I loved this store.

The shower removed the dried blood, and showed me that I had quit a few bruises and scabs underneath all the blood and dirt that had encrusted itself unto me. I dried quickly and dressed, still drying me hair when I happened upon a Hurley hat. I put it on and continued down the stairs, leaving the towel on the railing.

In my thirty minutes of absents, they had created an entire fucking village. They were gathering all the food and putting them in one corner of the clear floor that we had slept in. They had put trailers that I think were meant for horses or something, and on inspection, I saw that they had made bed rooms for people. Alyx and Adrian shared one, Jimmy had one, Johnny did, and each of the Ed's did. Wait. Nine people, seven trailers…

"You're coming with me," Jason said, handing me the other backpack and an AK.

"But…Jimmy…"

"Double D has experience in the first aid field since he for some reason trained to be an EMT but never actually did. Plus we had about thirty thousand first aid kits in this place. He'll be fine."

"But…"

Alyx, the only girl in this entire expedition, leaned forward and kissed me gently on the cheek, whispering into m y ear, "Just go. Everything here is fine. Take the psychos out is all we care about."

I nodded, and checked the AK to make sure that it was cocked and ready. Jason looked at me for a moment, then went over towards the doors. He opened them and exposed two UTV's, with extra batteries and gas in the small bed in the back.

"Coming?" he asked.

"Fuck you," I said, smiling and walking towards the red one. Red had always been my color…

**Double D**

After Jason had made the crude but effective IV and instructed me on how to refill it and the such, I had Ed search around for heart rate monitors. What he came back with was a small plastic package with a watch and some kind of plastic strap. I was about to question his intelligence when I saw what the package _said. _'Heart Rate Monitor and Watch' it declared. And that's when it hit me.

Before I had dropped of physical education due to a…um…dodge ball incident, we had a section about hear rates and target heart zones and the such. These two objects were exactly what they used. You slipped the plastic strap over your sternum snug, then looked at your watch and it would give you a heart rate. I slipped the plastic strap onto Jimmy, then strapped the watch onto myself. I waited, and the heart rate came up. It was at 80, but that was to be expected after someone gets shot in the chest.

I sighed and went to my trailer and searched inside the field medical books that I had found. None of them had a section on removing bullets, not even the damned one on hunting safety had anything to add. That left me and common sense. Fuck. I'm sorry for that. I'm under pressure.

Generally, there are three things that need to happen when a person gets a bullet removed; first the bullet is removed, second dead tissue is removed, and third is everything after that, including the wound being sewn shut, sanitation, medication in case of infection, painkillers…

I took out one of the larger first aid kits and looked inside. God, thank you. There was a small suture kit with sanitary needle and thread. Some kind of substance that was similar to super glue, several anti-infection pills, and even a very small amount of an off-brand morphine. A small pouch with surgical instruments, several small containers of disinfectants. I swallowed. We had everything we needed to perform a surgery on a child, but then I though about it: we're not going to keep this poor child awake through this ordeal, were we? No…wait. There was something coming to me…car fluid. Some type of car fluid hat contained…ether. Yes! That's it! What kind of car fluid…anti-freeze? Yes!

With this, I began to plan out the surgery, praying to God that I didn't forget anything.

**Jason**

We got fifteen miles out before we stopped and ate a very small breakfast and checked the map. The next town was about thirty miles away. No doubt the Kankers and Nazz had already gone there and killed everybody, but maybe we were wrong and that they were going to wait for us, then maybe explode a fucking nuclear bomb one of the shit out. As you can see, the stress from the last few days isn't at _all_ playing with my imagination.

"If they went to this town-" Kevin began, then checked the map to see what the town was called. "Thompson, they only have two hundred people. Maybe my imagination might be on the run, but I think they would take this on like singing the alphabet for a cookie."

I smiled. "Here's what they're gonna do. First, take out all communication. That means cell towers and land lines and all internet sources. Once they do that, they take out law enforcement. Look, this town doesn't even have a military reserve anywhere near it. So that means they only have like, what, three cops? Max? So that will be easy. If they take out this town before us, we're fucked. We can't do this alone-"

Kevin interrupted me with, "Then why the fuck did we leave all them behind!"

"Because if I'm right, then Double D's gonna realize that they're gonna have to do a surgery to get the bullet out of Jimmy."

"What the fuck? Jimmy's gonna go through surgery-"

"And we won't be there. Because we need to get rid of the Kankers."

I said that in a soothing voice, but I must not sound very convincing because Kevin looked about ready to cry.

We continued on until we saw the first sign for Thompson. The population was actually at 145, which just made the entire ordeal worse.

Have you ever had one of those moments where you stop and do something out of instinct, but you don't know why? Because I had one at the same time as Kevin as we bailed out of our UTV's and sprinted for the ditch.

A moment before we were in the ditch, and RPG struck mine and exploded.

**Eddy**

"It's okay, Fluffy, we're gonna make you go to sleep before we do this," I said in a soft voice.

"Eddy…if I die will I meet Sarah?"

I nodded, then turned around and sobbed. Fuck, what the hell are we doing? We're not doctors. We're gonna fuck this kid up after all he's been through.

Double D took out one of those carpenters masks that are solid plastic with a small fabric grill on the outside and fully clothed on the inside filled with something like chloroform, but apparently less toxic, and put it over Jimmy's mouth. The hear rate on the watch Double D wore increased rapidly, then slowly decreased until it was at a steady, slow beat.

Double D poured some rubbing alcohol into a small camping cup and put the knife thing into the flame of the Sterno can, then dumped it inside the alcohol, then repeated it with the pliers like things. He handed the pliers to me, then took a shuttering breath and made an 'X' cut, with the blackened skin in the middle of the X. Blood immediately began to rush out, and Ed took a alcohol soaked rag and wiped it up quickly, just for the bleeding to stop for a moment, then start again. Double D cut away huge chunks of the blackened skin, and even some of the normal pasty white part. Finally, with a final scrubbing motion, he took the pliers and reached into the hole and took out the bullet. The slug was green for some reason, and just so fucking….gory. He dropped it onto a small metal table, then stuck a Q-tip soaked with alcohol and scrubbed inside. Finally, he sewed it shut, and put what looked like super glue over the stitches, then sat back and looked at the heart rate thing. It was the same as it was before we started the surgery. Gently, almost like he had run an entire fucking marathon in record time, Double D set up the tiny IV bag of morphine that had come with the first aid kit, and set it up, already inserting the needle into the same arm as Kevin's other IV, but didn't turn a knob that would administer it.

Suddenly, for no reason, the watch began to go at an annoying fast beat.

Jimmy's heart was going way too fucking fast.

**Kevin**

The UTV's exploded, and Jason's back lit on fire. I threw him down into the ditch and stripped my sweatshirt off and wrapped it around him in a bear hug. The fire stopped, or at least the one on his back. I had my backpack full of weapons, but Jason only had the 9mm Glock that was in his pocket. He took it out, swearing at his lack of thought, and told me to follow him into the woods that were behind us. We did, him with only a pistol and me with an AK.

Bullets were shot all around us, but for some reason they never actually hit us. We fled deeper and deeper into the woods until Jason finally signaled for us to stop. He looked around, like he knew this place…

"There," he said simply, pointing towards an newer looking tree house. "Me and Mr. Durango put that up for deer hunting last year."

We shimmied up it, but when I took out the .270, Jason shook his head, out of breath.

"No," he said simply. "They got a hold of some .50 fucking _machine _gun. Take one out and the rest fuck us up."

I don't know why that triggered this memory but it did. My dad was in the Army, serving in Iraq. When he came back on some sort of break, he told me about road side bombing. He called the bombs IED, Improved Explosive Device. He said that they put ammunition connected to a detonator of some sort with either a trip wire or something like a laser that caused the thing to explode when crossed.

I thought about this, and grabbed for the extra ammunition when my eye caught the satchel of grenades in it. Next to that, fishing line and duct tape. It was like this is the fucking end! Finally, we would win!

Jason didn't even open his eyes. "IED."

"What?"

"Your thinking of connecting the fishing wire to the grenades and making a trip wire IED."

"Yeah! We'll finally-"

"It won't work."

"Huh?"

"It…won't…work," he coughed between the words, and I saw that he had been shot three times. Once in the leg, the rest in the torso on the back. Blood was pooling on the damned floor for the love of god!

"Then-"

He propped himself onto the ledge of the platform, still coughing. He stuck his handout for a grenade. I cocked my eyebrow. He began to shake his arm in emphasize. I gave him one but he shook his head.

"Give me two."

I did, and he climbed down the ladder. I was about to follow him but he shook is head.

"Stay here,"

It was the last thing he said to me.

**Jimmy**

Have you ever had a dream where shit was really fucked up? I'm sorry, maybe Sarah would approve of that language but Jesus won't. And I swear to God (that's not a pun) that Jesus was in front of me, talking. Talking in…what did Jesus talk in when he was still alive? Hebrew? Yes, Hebrew because he was Jewish.

In the background were several dozen swirling, twirling colors. And…was that Jason. He was smiling, looking up at Jesus like he was his best bud forever. He looked at me, and I noticed that the scars and cuts from the last couple days were gone.

"He says that your set for here, Fluffy," Jason said, ruffling my hair. "But it's time to go back."

"What are you doing-"

Jason smiled a pained smile. "It's done."

My eyes burst open and I smacked Ed in the face on accident. Double D was looking at me worriedly, and immediately set open a small valve on a real IV. I sunk down into the bed, and the swirls of color came back, but neither Jason or Jesus.

_It's done…_

**Jason**

I had the grenades in my hands, the pins already taken out. I had done it on the climb down to keep Kevin from freaking out. To be honest, the IED thing could have worked, but I wanted to make well goddam sure that whatever we did-they died. No more of this bull shit. It ends now. Still holding the lever down when I got shot in the chest, well away from the tree. I could see Kevin digging in the backpack for the rifle, but I struggled to my feet. Another shot to the chest. I went down again. In my mind, I could see Kevin loading the rifle, ready to take the shot. Adrenaline shot through my body as I got up again, but this time my leg was shot. Bones turned into flying fragments as the bullet tore threw.

_Do this for Sarah, Rolf, Plank…_

I got up again, not really in pain as much as floating on top of it. The other leg was shot out.

_All those innocent people…_

I began to crawl. I ran into four pairs of feet when I finally let go of the levers. Five seconds until detonation.

Another shot to my back, into the lung. I looked up into Nazz's eyes.

"Fuck you," I said calmly, tossing the grenades forward slightly so that they were between her legs. She looked down, first puzzled, then horrified. She began to turn.

BOOM.

It's done.

**Ed**

'**Translated by the Survivors'**

Jimmy began to frantically tell us that Jason was dead, how he saw Jesus, and how that the Kankers were dead. We all looked at each other, confused at first. We asked him to tell his story. He did.

After he was done, we again all looked at each other.

"Are you sure?" I asked, and Jimmy final broke down crying. Sobbing Jason's name.

We all went different ways to shed a tear or two and maybe pray. About forty minutes later, Kevin walked in. Just Kevin.

Oh Fuck.


End file.
